Salsa
I was in a very large open room (it looked sort of like the lobby of a large dormitory, or something similar) with two of my friends. The room was very crowded, with several hundred people mingling around apparently preparing for some large event.
"Are you coming to the Halloween festival later?" Sarah asked me.
"So that's what everyone is up to?" I replied. "I don't know. It depends on whether I have time."
With the aid of the new information, I watched all the people making preparations, and the scene made a lot more sense.
"Look — they're all wearing pre-Halloween clothes," I said.
"What?"
"Their clothes. Everyone's wearing under-costume type things, like black or gray sweats and T-shirts and stuff."
"Oh yeah, you're right!" she answered.
* * *
Later I found myself in the lobby of an office building, having just come down an escalator from work. I was looking at my watch calculating whether I had time to make it to a party at a friend's ex-boyfriend's apartment. I was also pondering over whether it was worth going, since I had never liked the guy all that much, but finally decided that it was something to do, and it couldn't hurt to stop by.
The apartment complex was not far from the building where I'd been, and it was a bright sunny day, so I decided to walk. Crossing a divided residential street, I called a friend on my cellphone asking whether he was still planning on arriving. He confirmed that he was on his way and would arrive at about the same time I would on foot. Then he began making an obnoxious singing beeping noise [this may have been my alarm starting to sound], and despite loud protesting from me, he wouldn't stop. Finally I pulled the phone away from my ear and pressed hard on the #3 key for several seconds. When I put the phone back to my ear, he'd hung up.
Several minutes later I arrived at the apartment building, and, looking at my watch, determined that I was over a half hour early for when the party was even supposed to start. Looking around, I saw a small swimming pool in front of the building, and the host and his roommate were both floating in inflatable lounges in the water.
They greeted me somewhat indifferently. My friend walked up shortly thereafter, and the hosts got out of the water and walked us up to the apartment on the second floor of the building nearby. Almost immediately they began playing handheld video games, and told us to make ourselves at home.
Already bored, I began to wander around the apartment, behind the minuscule living room was a roomy kitchen, which led into a very large dining area and sitting room on the other side.
"What a strange apartment layout," I thought to myself. "Looks so small upon first walking in here. Bad feng shui I'd think."
Several different snack foods were scattered around the apartment on various tables. In the kitchen I'd found some chips and salsa, and began to munch on them absentmindedly. I took a sip from a Diet Coke I was holding in my hand (not remembering when I'd acquired it, but vaguely thinking the host may have offered it to me earlier), and decided I'd rather not finish the drink.
Without thinking, I carefully poured the remaining soda into the bowl of salsa. Seeing the brown liquid floating on top of the red salsa, I suddenly realized what I'd done, and, taking a plastic fork from the kitchen counter, tried to mix the soda into the salsa so it wouldn't be noticeable.
"It shouldn't be that bad," I thought.
"Are you coming to the Halloween festival later?" Sarah asked me.
"So that's what everyone is up to?" I replied. "I don't know. It depends on whether I have time."
With the aid of the new information, I watched all the people making preparations, and the scene made a lot more sense.
"Look — they're all wearing pre-Halloween clothes," I said.
"What?"
"Their clothes. Everyone's wearing under-costume type things, like black or gray sweats and T-shirts and stuff."
"Oh yeah, you're right!" she answered.
* * *
Later I found myself in the lobby of an office building, having just come down an escalator from work. I was looking at my watch calculating whether I had time to make it to a party at a friend's ex-boyfriend's apartment. I was also pondering over whether it was worth going, since I had never liked the guy all that much, but finally decided that it was something to do, and it couldn't hurt to stop by.
The apartment complex was not far from the building where I'd been, and it was a bright sunny day, so I decided to walk. Crossing a divided residential street, I called a friend on my cellphone asking whether he was still planning on arriving. He confirmed that he was on his way and would arrive at about the same time I would on foot. Then he began making an obnoxious singing beeping noise [this may have been my alarm starting to sound], and despite loud protesting from me, he wouldn't stop. Finally I pulled the phone away from my ear and pressed hard on the #3 key for several seconds. When I put the phone back to my ear, he'd hung up.
Several minutes later I arrived at the apartment building, and, looking at my watch, determined that I was over a half hour early for when the party was even supposed to start. Looking around, I saw a small swimming pool in front of the building, and the host and his roommate were both floating in inflatable lounges in the water.
They greeted me somewhat indifferently. My friend walked up shortly thereafter, and the hosts got out of the water and walked us up to the apartment on the second floor of the building nearby. Almost immediately they began playing handheld video games, and told us to make ourselves at home.
Already bored, I began to wander around the apartment, behind the minuscule living room was a roomy kitchen, which led into a very large dining area and sitting room on the other side.
"What a strange apartment layout," I thought to myself. "Looks so small upon first walking in here. Bad feng shui I'd think."
Several different snack foods were scattered around the apartment on various tables. In the kitchen I'd found some chips and salsa, and began to munch on them absentmindedly. I took a sip from a Diet Coke I was holding in my hand (not remembering when I'd acquired it, but vaguely thinking the host may have offered it to me earlier), and decided I'd rather not finish the drink.
Without thinking, I carefully poured the remaining soda into the bowl of salsa. Seeing the brown liquid floating on top of the red salsa, I suddenly realized what I'd done, and, taking a plastic fork from the kitchen counter, tried to mix the soda into the salsa so it wouldn't be noticeable.
"It shouldn't be that bad," I thought.